Vacant Smile
by molochie
Summary: "I'm sorry, but I don't like lying to people."
1. Lost

**I'm still standing here with my eyes closed,**

 **Lost between the deserts and oceans.**

* * *

Kano once read a magazine article about Ancient Egypt. He has read a lot of magazines, actually, because they contain a lot of current and trendy information, and the format is easier to read than that of traditional books. On one ordinary day, he picked up some sort of travel magazine, and flipped to a page where it talked about ancial cultures and their traditions.

Ancient Egyptians, according to the article, had a fixation and appreciation for symmetry. Their beauty standards (symmetrical face, even features) and their living standards (statues, buildings, cities) reflected this. Many artifacts found in Egypt were noticeably and verily _symmetrical._

It was not hard to understand why. See, even past the ancient cultures, things that are symmetrical are considered to be _perfect._ Or at least, a sort of imperfection that was desirable to the human eye. If something was symmetrical, that meant it was intact and even and attractive.

Imbalance was ugly. Imbalance was disgusting. Damage and imperfection was hated, no matter what. Anything that fell out of a symmetrical, perfect standard was discarded, and all love and respect in the world was only saved for the best.

In that regard, Kano was the worst. He was, by all means, imperfect. He was imbalanced, physically less so, emotionally and mentally more so. His trauma stuck with him like ghosts that wanted his misery to be everlasting. Anxiety and hatred clung to him like static, and whenever he walked he felt as if he was always weighed down by something. It was boring, it was fake, it was disgusting.

It made him hate himself even more than he already did. The article, while not a defining factoid in his life, was certainly an affirmation and testament to his flawed self. For centuries, humans have always coveted beauty, wholesomeness, and perfection. They have always looked down on ugliness, fractures, and imperfection.

And Kano was such a sorrowful mix of them all. His past, his present, his future-all were tainted and drained by dark and cruel happenstances. He had faced violence, death, rebirth, life, pain, and love all at once—except the better of those things, the life and love, the happiness and joy, were bitterly outshined by the worst of those things. His loss, his pain, his violence. Kano lost his mother, he hurts everyday knowing that a monster brewed within him (and how he was turning into a monster himself), and the violence which the heat haze itself seemed to spawn from—it was a bleak, permanent reminder to Kano how damaged and destroyed he was, how he never had a chance to be a perfect person, or be a boy that everyone could love and protect.

If perfection is beauty, then Kano is nothing short of the ugliest thing to have walked the earth, or so he believes.

…

"I'm heading out." Kano announced. He put emphasis and volume in his voice, even if only two other people were present to hear him.

They were the same two people that had been at his side since early on in his life. Tsubomi Kido, Kousuke Seto—two names that Shuuya Kano had permanently branded into his mind. The former of which was a stern but strong leader, albeit cynical and violent. The latter of which was a kind and resilient worker, although sensitive and naive. Yes, they were the perfect complements to Kano's own personality—one that was shattered and broken and rebuilt with bits and pieces stolen from others. There were a few core words left to describe Kano, however.

 _Petty. Ignorant. Attentive. Nosy. Bitter. Callous. Comical. Rude._ There were more that came to mind, but only those stood out at the moment. And, lucky for Kano, he had been accused of being all and any of those things at some point or another, so he knew that they were traits he could call his own.

Still, he was not so bad when either Kido or Seto were with him. After all, they were more mild mannered than him, and leagues more kinder.

They were the only ones that Kano allowed some genuine displays for. Even if now, he was simply dismissing them in a short announcement. But was it really that unusual? He was always leaving, always going out and walking about the city, scheming to himself.

(Or, that's what the others would like to believe)

"Be safe, then." Kido responded. She stared at the third member warily. "It's getting late, though. What's the use of going out right now?"

"Just a little nightly stroll, y'know?" Kano shrugged, and a practiced smile appeared alongside his actions. "Don't be so worried."

"Don't tell me what to do," she insisted. Her eyes, dark and questioning, narrowed slightly. "I just don't want you to do something stupid."

"Me? Stupid?" Kano gawked. He covered his mouth as he gasped in fake surprise. "Why, I would _never!_ "

"I think," Seto suddenly interrupted, "that Kido is just concerned. I am, too, but if you can come home by dinner, then it won't be so bad. You get me?"

 _Always playing the pacifier,_ Kano thought to himself. He wanted to laugh at him. Seto was always trying to please everyone, and while it was good-spirited above all else, it was still annoying. Nevertheless, Kano gave in.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, you two. Especially _you_ , Kido. You're gonna get wrinkles at this rate!"

Tsubomi scoffed, and rolled her eyes for added effect. "Whatever. Just hurry up with that stroll of yours. I have no problems cooking for less people, y'know."

"Fine, fine. I'll catch you two later!" Kano cheered. He turned on his heels, jacket flowing out behind him extravagantly. It came back to his form, and he gave his signature hood an affectionate tug.

Without looking back at the others, he called out to them in a lilting voice. "Don't wait for me."

…

The smell of incense wafted delicately. The shine of moonlight cast over the sleek stones, illuminating the names written on them. All was quiet, the only noise was that of a sorrowful breeze and Kano's breathing.

He stared at the particular stone in front of him. It had the name _Tateyama_ written across the top, with Ayano's name written beneath that. A framed picture of the girl in question stood tall, and in that glimpse of time one could see the bright smile she once had, and the happy disposition as well.

He missed her smile more than anything. Pictures were not nearly enough. But they were all he had, so he could do nothing more about it.

In his hands was a bouquet made of different types of red flowers. After all, red was Ayano's favorite color. It suited her, as well. A heroic color for the most heroic person.

Usually when Kano visited her grave, he was jovial. He laughed and joked about how "quiet" it was without her, and how Kido and Seto are growing up and becoming "delinquent children". He always lamented over her, and always said that without her, they were becoming "shadows".

He always said such nonsensical things. But tonight was different. There were no jokes to be made, nor stories to be told. Shuuya Kano was as silent as the stone in front of him. There were no tears shed, either. Only dry, unbearable melancholy that slowly tore at him from the inside out.

When it became too unbearable, Kano left the bouquet at the base of the grave, and took one lasting look at his sister before he left.

Above her framed picture, written in stone, were words that seemed to reverberate with Kano, and he repeated them in his head endlessly.

 _Ayano Tateyama,_ it read, _Beloved daughter, sister, and friend. The world is not as bright without her._

 _The world is not as bright._

…

Time passed and Kano had no desire to return home. It was a struggle to face Kido or Seto each time he visited Ayano's grave. He knew it was selfish, too, selfish to not want to confide in the people that missed Ayano as much as he did. But he could not help it.

He did not want to see them. Not them, or any of the other members of the gang, for that matter. He just wanted to be by himself, whatever kind of person he was at the moment.

More importantly, he continuously wished to be with Ayano. He always fantasized that the girl would magically appear in front of him, and that the kindness he lost over the years would be restored. He always hoped that she would appear, and tell him that it was all a joke, or that he could rest now.

Because he was so exhausted. All the time, he never felt relaxed or happy or even just well-rested. He faked those things, along with most things in his life, for the sake of the others. After all, most of the other members saw him as impregnable, mysterious, and controlled. He was the illusionist, the deceiver. They figured he had it all figured out.

 _Oh,_ he thought, _how wrong they are._ He was far from stable, and anyone that thought otherwise did little more than amuse Kano. They were but amusements to him, temporary occupancies in his vacant life.

He would much rather be with Ayano. Even if she was gone, long gone at that, Kano still felt like she could be near. Maybe she was. Maybe he was not looking hard enough.

Still, the main point was that he did not want to go back to Kido and Seto. Not yet. So he settled for his late night graffiti sessions, his improvisational artworks that gave him momentary instances of solace and artistic inspiration. Tonight's show was one on a lone alley wall, smooth and untouched as far as the eye could see.

Tonight, Kano did nothing short of splattering the surface with paint. He had all his usual supplies, too. Spray cans, paint cans, brushes and his gas mask. He made a point of having his things ready for a late outing like this, and snuck the objects away from under Kido and Seto's nose on his way out earlier.

In methodical movements, Kano decorated the wall. Various colors were used, different types of reds, blacks, whites, and browns. A little yellow and green were added, too. Streaks here, streaks there.

When Kano was done, he was lightly spattered in paint, and his arms ached. He took a step backwards to admire his work.

The once-bare wall was now a large, elegant mural of Ayano herself. In the painting, her eyes were closed and she was smiling. One of her hands was placed on her chest, the other disappearing into perspective. Her crimson scarf was wrapped around her neck, the lengths of it reaching out and fading into splayed ends. Below her figure was a few words, written in fanciful, painted letters.

 _Ayano Tateyama,_ it read. _Beloved._

 _The world is brighter with her._

…

The sudden brightness of Kano's phone screen jarred him. His eyes, golden yet dull, narrowed as he recoiled in discomfort. When he lowered it, he properly read what his notifications were telling him.

 _New voicemail_

 _Missed calls_

 _Kido (17), Seto (16)_

 _Messaging_

 _Kido (14), Seto (3)_

The larger-than-normal numbers scared him, but when he glanced at the time, he seemed to have understood why.

It was three o'clock in the morning. It was far past dinner time (when he said he would come back), and it was much closer to breakfast. Kano had promised the two he would be back hours ago, and yet he was nowhere near home. Rather, he was curled up in an abandoned alleyway, where the harsh smell of paint fumes surrounded him like a haze.

The mural of Ayano, which rested behind him, was bright and vibrant now, but over time it would be washed and faded out, until it was gone completely.

It was very similar to the real Ayano, who was bubbly and energetic, until she discovered the truth about her parents' endeavors, and the truth of her classmates' fates. Once time had started ticking away, her vibrancy slowly disappeared, and left altogether when she died.

Kano sneered. The corners of his lips twitched with indignation. Was that _all_ death had to offer? Slow but steady dilapidation? Forgetfulness and dullness? _Ha,_ he scorned internally, _ha, ha. How sad._

He jolted suddenly, when his phone started ringing. Kido's picture appeared. The photo he had chosen for her was actually a nice one, albeit a bit blurry. Kano remembered it clearly, too. Tsubomi had been underneath the streetlight, waiting patiently for the light to turn green. The whole gang had gone out to a restaurant at night, but Kido and Kano went back to the base ahead of everyone else. Tsubomi was smiling in the picture, although her arm was blurred out as she tried to punch Shuuya in the process of the photography session.

Her profile picture was proof that he succeeded in catching her off guard. He admitted that she looked kind of cute, but at the time of its current appearance, he could not have been more annoyed to see her face.

Shuuya was so annoyed, he turned his phone off completely, and put it in his pocket. He was too tired, too somber to even attempt to communicate. He would rather curl up and sleep on the streets, than try to return home.

Which is _exactly_ what he did. With the last of his conscious strength, Kano used his power and made himself appear as a black cat. He did not look up from his spot, and closed his eyes in delayed sluggishness.

And maybe he started to dream, because he swore he could feel Ayano's presence, going towards him and enveloping him in her warmth. He swore he could hear her voice, soft and light, reassuring him.

" _Go to sleep, Shuuya."_ she said. " _You can rest now."_

" _You can rest…"_


	2. Gone

**This is too hard,**

 **is this path right for me?**

* * *

The next day, Kido was restless. The other members could tell right away. Mary and Seto, who lived at the gang's headquarters and therefore became used to Kido, knew something was amiss.

The Kisaragi siblings, while not as familiar with Kido as they could have been, already sensed an air of anxiety and dread surrounding their beloved leader. Momo felt it quicker than Shintaro did, but the latter, noticing Kido's sad disposition, figured it out soon enough.

To think they had chosen that day of all days to appear. Kido supposed it was fate, and the same went with Hibiya and Konoha. Since the death of Hiyori, Hibiya had been staying at the countryside more often, but in the heat of the summer he always managed to appear. Konoha, who was more than welcome at their home, instead chose to stay with Hibiya occasionally, and wandered about on his lonesome otherwise.

The fact that they were both there, as well, meant something. And with Ene appearing from Shintaro's phone, Kido realized the whole gang was there.

Everyone except for Kano, that is. And _that_ was what made her restless. That was the cause of her current anxiety, the building frustration. She knew that they could sense it, so she did not hesitate to come out with the truth.

"Kano hasn't come back since last night," she simply said. "Good morning," she weakly added at the end.

"Morning," Hibiya murmured. "So that weirdo's gone missing?"

"H-He usually leaves, though…" Mary squeaked. Her voice was soft, and were it not for the other's conjoined silence, her words would have gone unnoticed.

"That's true," Seto agreed. "Once he left for a whole day but it was because he fell asleep on the subway."

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions, then." Shintaro said. "He'll probably show up."

"That's what I wanted to believe," Kido said. "But I'm skeptical. He hasn't answered any of our calls. And when I called earlier, it went straight to voicemail. If he's not back by lunch, I'm really gonna have to ask you guys to help me find him."

"I can help!" Ene shouted. "I'll look on the internet!"

"Me, too." Momo affirmed. "Maybe I can ask my fans? I mean, they usually respond to me on Twitter and stuff, so…"

"W-We can make posters," Mary added again. "B-But only if we can't find him today."

"Like I said," Shintaro reminded, "he's not in trouble _yet._ Odds are that he's out doing whatever and he'll be back. Don't get your hopes up."

Amid all the chatter that began to arise, Seto quietly whispered to Kido. "I'm gonna keep a lookout for him while I buy groceries," he relayed. "Let's relax, okay? It'll be okay."

Kido, whose dark gaze looked upon the others, focused on Seto's kind eyes and relented. She nodded.

"I hope so. Oh, God, I hope so."

…

The familiar blond was nowhere to be seen. Well past lunchtime, the sun began to set when the whole group decided that they had better start looking for him. Mary and Momo worked on posters, while Ene turned to the internet for answers. Shintaro went out with Konoha and Hibiya to do some old-fashioned searching. Seto stayed with Kido, and asked his employer and his coworkers over the phone if they have seen Kano.

With all the members working at once, it was very likely that they would at least find a lead that might tell them where Kano was. But Kido, as practical as ever, doubted that in every way possible.

 _Besides,_ she thought, _he would have come back by now._

 _What if it's too late?_

…

In the latest hour of the night, all of the children formed one big group after having spent the evening apart. Most of their searches came up empty, and at this point Tsubomi's nerves were enough to do her in.

Even with the safety of their large group, she felt exposed and weak. This feeling multiplied variously as they walked along the city streets, unnoticeable by the people around them, walking as silently as death itself.

Right as they were about to turn in for the night, they stumbled upon the biggest clue they could have possibly found. In a narrow alleyway, the bright mural of the inner wall was so spectacular, it caught Kido's attention immediately. Upon further inspection, the horror of realization came to her.

Before them was a large mural of Ayano Tateyama. Each child had a differing expression, and the only ones that were as shocked as Kido and Seto were Shintaro and Ene. But the still-fresh wetness and smell of paint indicated that Kano (they knew it was Kano at that point) was there recently, and that he had left not too long ago.

The familiar gas mask of his lay discarded on the side, cold and stained with a red splash of paint. Kido walked up slowly and held the object in her hand. She glanced at the painting of her late sister and grimaced. The fancy graffiti-cursive below her seemed to mock Kido, and the few words echoed endlessly in her head.

 _Ayano Tateyama._

 _The world is brighter with you._

…

The hours slipped into days, which formed into weeks. At the month mark, Tsubomi felt herself losing all her wits, her patience and kindness diminishing until there was only worry and distress left. Everyone was just as frazzled as she, but only Seto knew how she really felt.

After all, his feelings matched hers entirely. Where Kido became harsh and vapid, Seto had become melancholy and desperate. He snapped at others, something he hardly did in his life. He seemed to be distant, far off, and not even Mary—in all her kindheartedness—could do anything to bring him back.

Momo suggested that they take a break. She offered, with some of the extra money made from being with her idol agency, to treat everyone to a mini-vacation at the beach. The rhythmic waves and soft sand were sure to put everyone at ease, or at least, curb some of their anxieties away.

So, a month or two into their search for Kano was marked with an expedition at the beach. For the most part, it seemed to be working. Seto seemed pleased at the thought of jogging alongside the shore, or riding a few bikes with everyone. Kido found the thought of seashell collecting amiable, and even offered to pack lunch for everyone.

They rode in one of Momo's idol company's cars, refurbished and free of charge considering the girl's unusual (and unnatural) success as of late. The cityscape disappeared from their sights in the window, and after a few hours the shore line and the vast pacific was in their view.

Within the hour, the whole gang had reached the sands, and were immersed in casual beachtime fun. Seto set up a beach volleyball court, with the first rounds being him and Hibiya versus Konoha and Mary. While it was going well at first, Konoha's super strength got the better of him and he deflated the ball with too strong of a hit.

"Lucky for us I brought extras," Seto said. "Be more careful, okay?"

"Okay..." Konoha droned on. "Sorry…"

And a little ways from them was Shintaro, who was relaxing underneath an umbrella. Ene changed her appearance to match that of a swimsuit, and whined that Shintaro was "not stimulating" enough, and at this rate "the sun would start to shun him for good".

"I don't care," Shintaro muttered. "If you want, go to Momo's phone. She and Leader are looking for seashells."

To this, Ene agreed, and momentarily disappeared from Shintaro's home screen. He sighed in relief, and in the same moment Momo exclaimed as Ene's sudden appearance had scared her.

"Master's no fun at all," she explained, "so I'll join you two!"

"That's fine by me," Momo said. "Leader and I are looking for shells! See if you spot any good ones!" The idol held up the phone so Ene could see the full view of the ocean. She gawked at the picturesque sight, and yelled animatedly over potential seashell sightings.

Kido, alongside the two, simply smiled and kept up the pace. Even if Kano's haunting disappearance still occupied most of her thoughts, part of her was able to relax and worry about other things, if only for a little bit. The smallest reprieve, however, was enough for her. She sighed, and stared at the blue expanse before them. She focused on the seafoam, the rocks, and the occasional crab that walked along.

It was like a song. There was a rhythm, a pace, and an occasion for head-bobbing. There was noise, the kind that was enjoyable and not painful in the least. There was company, and the good vibrations of play and laughter. The echoes of happiness (something which had been absent for the past month or so) reverberated loudly and kindly.

In the darks of Kido's eyes, the slightest sliver of light appeared. It was a beacon of hope, a streak of warmth that was rare in her cold, desolate days. Her chest, which always felt constricted as it was hard to breathe, felt freer than it had ever been. Maybe this break was good for her, after all. Maybe this was a sign that their search was not so hopeless, and that soon their luck would turn around, brighten up like the seashore and the distant sun.

 _Maybe,_ Kido thought. _Maybe._

...

In the latter half of the day, the sun was dark and cast a myriad of shadows alongside the water. In their world, the ocean was orange and purple and blue all at once. The hues mixed in with each other and created thousands of white sparkles, as well.

The children looked toward that horizon, and felt invigorated. With their things all packed up, and with lunch eaten and consumed, there was nothing left for them now. Tomorrow would come soon, and they would need to be ready to continue the search for Kano. They would need to prepare for news, good or bad, and for that to happen they had to leave.

Tsubomi felt her worries arise again, but this time she chose to accept them, rather than let them devour her. There was nothing that could be done apart from what she was already doing. Her best was all she could offer, and all she could hope to offer in order to return Kano to her side.

 _Damn everything,_ she thought, _that tells me otherwise. I'll find him. I know I will._

With that, she turned her back on the beach. The others followed suit, eventually. Only Momo (and Ene, consequently) remained. The former told the latter to give "one last look" to the sea. The latter complied, and let out a dreamy sigh.

In the seconds it took for Momo to turn around, and for Ene to stare out, the cyber girl screamed as loud as she could. The Kisaragi was startled, and nearly dropped her phone.

"Ene! What's wrong?"

"There!" She screamed. "By the rocks! Leader! Master! Go get them!"

Momo, not yet understanding of the situation, turned around, and called for the others to come back. Her voice carried through the wind, but Kido was the first to hear. Her wariness had returned soon enough, and a chill ran up her spine, like an insect making its way toward the top.

She felt the hairs on her neck stand up, and the constrictions on her chest returned. _Oh no._ She thought. _What's going on?_

"Leader!" Momo repeated.

"What?" Kido yelled, making her way back towards the sea. "What's going on?"

"Ene said she spotted something—over by the rocks and—!"

Kido did not need to hear more. She shoved past Momo unintentionally, running wildly to the jetties. When her mind caught up with her body, she was finally able to understand what all the screaming was about.

Caught in between the rocks was the dark sliver of fabric. It was black, soaked, and slightly tattered. Kido's hands trembled as she reached for it. The dark color seemed menacing, yet inviting. It felt like soak or slime in her hands, and she figured it was there for a while.

For a month's while, maybe.

When she examined it closely, it was everything and nothing. It was white, black, and red all over. The crimson streaks of _something_ ( _not blood, it can't be blood_ ) ran from the pockets, and sickly yellow clumps of hair remained stuck to the hood. It was a jacket, a sickeningly familiar jacket.

She did not have to say his name, or even think of his image. It was if he was there inside the jacket, waterlogged and red. (But he was not). It was as if he was the foam in the sea, or the rocks at her knees—white, distant, jagged, close, nearby—attainable but unattainable at once. It was as if he was there, anyway. She need not imagine him.

The world seemed to burn. The only time Kido felt as hot and helpless as she did now was when her house was burning down to the ground. Everything felt white, red, and steaming. Her mind went blank, her throat went dry. Her lips, chapped and quivering, remained apart and her expression was as shocked as it was sorrowful.

Momo and the others had surely gathered around her by now, and surely they saw what Kido saw. Either way, everything became silent and noisy all at once, and dark eyes lost the sliver of life completely. Her hair, long and soft, fell as she lowered her head and buried her face in the soaked piece of clothing.

(In the soaked piece of Kano)

She sobbed, cried, wept, and screamed all at once. She laughed and giggled and shouted, too. She was caught in a maelstrom of emotions, such that her face and voice did not know which one to cater to. It was a mess, it was a tragedy.

It was nothing but hot fire and cold water, the sensation of both hitting her as hard as a subway train. She felt like someone dug a knife into her chest, and broke the spine in her back in half.

She felt her heartbeat, erratic and wild, lose itself in deep sorrow and regret. Her stomach twisted, and her body felt clammy.

"NO!" She screamed.

"NO, NO, NO!" She hollered.

"NO, PLEASE NO!" She begged.

 _NO..._


	3. Found

**I am so confused,**

 **Don't you leave me alone.**

Loss is a strange thing. It takes and takes and _takes_ so much from a person, yet at the same time it allows time and space for the person to _take back._ After all, life keeps on going, no matter who lives or dies. Time continues turning at its own imaginary pace.

While Kido's soul never stopped mourning, everyone and everything around her seemed to fall back to its usual pace, eventually. In one way or another, others seem to heal, even in the most minimal ways.

It seemed so unfair to her. She longed and hurt so much, she never found solace. Not even as months piled on an on, not even when summer disappeared into fall, or when fall fell into winter.

Even as the first snow fell down, Kido's entirety resonated with agony. Her mind constantly thought about one thing. Her body closed itself off. Her heart temporarily disconnected. Every wish ever made was for one thing, and one thing alone.

 _Bring him back._ She thought. _Bring him back._

 _If you can't do that,_ she reasoned, _then please let me be happy. Let me live._

It was no surprise that neither of her wishes came true. Knowing this, Tsubomi would laugh at herself bitterly.

"My wishes," she said to no one, "never came true."

 _Why should this be any different?_

…

Whether or not they liked it, the rest of the Blindfold Gang moved on in some way or another. Seto, especially, had to go back to work, for everyone's sake if not his own. His routine of hanging out with Mary and Kido (there's always an empty space at the table. He doesn't stare at it for too long) in the morning never changed. His routine of leaving for work at the florist's shop does not change, either. His coworkers did not change, neither did his boss.

The streets also stayed the same. There was always a hustle, bustle, and rush that left city goers cranky and tourists in awe. In the winter days, things were harsher than usual, and ice lined the sidewalks as hazardous reminders of the dwindling year.

Seto was another face in the faceless crowd. He trudged behind bossy businessfolk, corny tourists, and cranky senior citizens. He was surrounded by strangers whenever he stopped at a crosswalk, and whenever he was too slow another stranger would bypass him, or worse, curse at him.

It was like any other day, and Seto, for all his optimism, managed to keep his cool. He was not really short tempered at all, and could patiently wait behind others if that was what was required of him.

Besides that, he could afford to take his time, since he left for work early. He had half the mind to check his phone just in case, but something much more important grabbed his attention.

It was a dog. A big, fluffy dog that waited by an apartment door patiently. Seto could see its owner, hung up by the entrance. He asked permission to pet the creature, and once he received it he gave the dog a good, thorough petting.

"Who's a good lil' doggie?" Seto asked in a cute voice. "You are! Yes, you are!"

The owner smiled, but reminded Seto that they had to get going. Understanding completely, Kousuke apologized and thanked them in the same breath, and waited for them (and the dog) to leave first.

In those few seconds' delay, the _eye stealer_ was witness to a life changing event. People passed him by easily, but one person that passed by was different from the others.

The person seemed blond, and had a long, black coat swishing out from behind them. The scent of windswept leaves and licorice was familiar, and Seto's heart skipped a beat out of nervousness.

 _No,_ he thought. _No way._

It could be a mistake. Seto was prone to making them, especially after the beach incident. When he went out, every short-stature, blond person looked like Kano at one angle or another. He even stopped a few of those strangers, just to see if it was _really_ Shuuya, and when he realized he was wrong, he profusely apologized and shamed himself for being so desperate.

But now, now was a bit different. Even if the jacket was different (they still had his jacket), the hair was the same. The shape of the person was similar—lanky, thin, but not unnoticeable. Maybe they were a bit taller than Kano used to be, but everything seemed the same.

The blond tufts that stuck out in the back of their head was _very_ Kano-like. Seto felt shameful again, but realized that if he had to apologize for mistaking another person for his presumably-dead brother, then so be it.

As Seto approached the figure, everything else in the world seemed against it. Out of nowhere, the mass of people increased, and Seto found himself becoming distanced from the other, nearly lost in a sea of city goers. When he thought he made progress, traffic would increase, and Seto would be on one side of the street, and the stranger on the other side.

All hope started to diminish, until Seto's anxiety and adrenaline worked fully, and his body jerked forward impulsively. From this, the boy found himself in the middle of a crosswalk, stuttering in front of a car which found time to honk at him excessively. The boy managed to stammer out an apology, but ultimately ran after the other.

His legs carried him farther and faster than they ever did before. What seemed like an impossible distance was now closed, and in a rough movement, Seto slammed his hand down on the other's shoulder, and forcibly turned him around.

The smaller figure visibly flinched, and slowly made their way to turn around and face Seto directly. The eyes which looked up at Seto were golden, slanted, and short-lashed, just as they had always been. The expression they wore was one of a jaded confusion, coupled with stern disbelief. Yet as soon as their eyes met, Seto felt a fresh sheen of tears threatening to break through. His throat closed up, and his tongue felt dry and unused, like a book left untouched in an old library shelf.

The dust would start to collect, at that rate, but luckily for Kousuke, the other spoke first.

"...Who are _you_?"

…

If there was any hope of Seto's tongue working again, it was lost in that three-word question. The emphasis that Kano placed on the " _you_ " was almost accusational, as if he had never seen Seto in his life before.

 _What is this?_ Seto thought. _Is this real?_

He could not make any sense of it. Why would Kano pretend to not know him? If Kano was alive, why did he avoid the Mekakushi Dan in the first place? Was he lying? Why now?

All those questions, and infinitely more, began to resound in Seto's mind. It was so overwhelming, he found himself losing his tether to reality, and in his mind he was floating far away from this place.

Kano's sharp and harsh movements, that of breaking free from Seto's grasp, were what brought him back to reality.

"Well, then. That's pretty damn rude. You stop someone, and then not say anything. Whatever—"

At this point, Kano had turned his back on Seto. He was about to walk away, too, until Seto's senses came back to him, and in a rushed movement he reached for Kano's wrist again, holding it secure and stopping the blond for a second time.

Shuuya turned around, face contorted into something half-annoyed, half-menacing. " _What_ do you want? Leave me alone!"

"Y-You're kidding me...you can't be _serious,_ right?"

"What are you talking about? I don't even _know_ you!"

His volatile tone and sharp expression was convincing, but Seto was more stubborn than he was gullible. He persisted.

"What do you mean, you don't know me? Don't you recognize me? Shuuya Kano, you had better not be messing around with me—"

"Stop that!" Kano hissed. He pulled back, only to realize that Seto's strength outmatched his. Still, his golden eyes lost their dullness of tedium, and became alight with worry and fright. "Let go of me! How do you know my name—?"

"Don't give me that!" Seto yelled. Others began to look their way, but the necessity of the rush and the size of the crowd prevented anyone from stopping them. Seto was grateful, but reverted his full attention to the matter at hand.

"Don't lie to me, Kano!" Seto cried out. "It's not funny, okay? You can't just pretend that you don't know me, do you know how worried I was? How the others were?"

"Stop." Kano repeated. "Stop it." He managed to wriggle free at last, but did not run away as Seto had feared. Seemingly interested, he stared up at the florist, and spoke in a blunt, suspicion manner.

"I'm sorry," Shuuya began, "but I don't like _lying_ to people."

…

Kido was making lunch for Seto. After all, he often spent his free time with her anyway, and preparing meals for the group was one of the few things that kept Kido busy. Mary was always more excited to see Seto than Kido, but knew where her presence was needed and when it was not. She stayed by Kido's side to help cut vegetables (something she recently learned how to do) and to set a kettle running for some tea.

"I'll be in my room," she said quietly. "C-Call me if you need me, okay?"

"Sure," Kido answered. "I'll call you when Seto gets here."

The medusa nodded, and made her way back to the rooms. When she was out of sight, Kido collapsed on the counter, groaning in exhaustion and heartbreak. Her eyes were wet with tears, but she held them back.

On that day alone, she had cried five times already. _No more,_ she forced herself, _stop crying, already._

She was doing remarkably well, too, and was almost completely composed. That is, until her phone began to ring, the sound and vibration of which startled her more than anything. Noticing the familiar ringtone, she immediately picked it up.

"Seto, you scared me." She said suddenly. There was no need for "hello" when it came to him. "What's up? Are you on your way home? I'm making lunch."

"Kido," he said, ignoring her questions, "are you sitting down?"

"No?" she answered doubtfully. "No, I just finished preparing the veggies. Listen, if you're not on your way home, could you pick up some—"

"Tsubomi," he announced clearly, "sit down, please."

She blinked, then remembered that it was _her_ name that he was saying, and decided that the sudden use of first-name basis was important enough that it warranted her obedience. After removing her apron, she went and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Okay, _Kousuke._ " she rebutted. "What's wrong?"

"Listen," he said, "I have no idea how else to say this but just to say it."

"You're scaring me," she admitted. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, I just have to tell you something."

"Then tell me."

"Okay. Are you sitting down—?"

"For God's sake!" Kido yelled, a little louder than she meant to. " _Yes,_ I'm sitting down. What is it, Seto? What's going on?"

"...It's Kano."

She froze. He took her silence as a sign to keep going.

"It's Kano," Seto repeated. "He's alive."

…

Before any of that, Seto's mind could only process one sentence at a time. Before he called Kido, Kano's words stuck with him like glue.

 _I'm sorry, but I don't like lying to people._

Of course, Seto did not like lying in the least. He hated lies; he hated them because of the ugly words he had heard before. His power let him steal others' thoughts, and bear witness to inner musings that he was normally not allowed to hear. It haunted him when he was younger, but now that he was older he had more control over himself.

And yet, part of him felt like using his power on Kano would be a valid instance of doing so, considering their current situation. But Seto held himself back, and decided that if he was to convince Kano to come along with him (because he _had_ to come with him) he had to do it himself.

"You're being serious," Seto wondered aloud. "Y-You're not lying?"

"Of _course_ I'm not," Kano retorted. "There's no reason to lie, even if you _are_ a stranger."

"But that's the thing!" Seto cut in. "I'm _not_ a stranger. Why would a _stranger_ know your name? Shuuya Kano? It's not like you have social media or anything," Seto started listing off facts that he knew for sure, and in doing so he tried to garner control of the situation. "But if you _did_ have social media, I would still know that your birthday is on the tenth of May. Oh, and that your blood type is B and—"

"—How do you know those things?" Kano asked. His voice was bare, but even. He seemed incredibly honest, something that was previously impossible of him. "How? Who are—"

"—I know it sounds impossible," Seto agreed. "I know this is so hard to believe, but Kano you have to go along with me. Just for a little bit. Just for today." Seto racked his head for more pleasantries to add, and he came up with a hurried plead. "Please, Kano. Please."

Shuuya sighed, and stood still for a moment as he seemed to ponder his options. With a defeated look, he gave in.

"Fine. But not because I believe you, but because you said it would be just for today! I have a cellphone and I'll call the cops if you try anything funny."

"I won't," Seto reassured, "I promise. I just have to...have to tell them."

"Tell who?" Kano implored. His eyes were narrowed again, but he did not seem as harsh as he was before. His cheeks were reddened, however. "Who are you calling?"

The second member had his phone out at this moment, and with a shaky hand he brought the cell to his ear. He stared at Kano decisively, and answered him with an equal disposition.

"I'm calling Kido," he explained. "You may not know her, but it doesn't matter. Just know that she cares about you more than you can ever hope to imagine."

…

An hour passed since Seto's phone call. Kido was wracked with nerves and worse, and she had to repeat several mantras in order for her to calm down.

 _It's Kano,_ Seto's words repeated in her head. _He's alive._

She wanted to cry and laugh at once. The heat and cold came back again, and she felt like her chest had tied itself up into a knot with her stomach. The terror came back. The joy, too.

"Oh my god," she muttered. "What is happening? Is this real?"

"I-Is _what_ real…?"

The inquiry was so unexpected, Kido felt herself jostle in her seat. _Thanks to Seto,_ she thought, _I'm already sitting down. I'm about to collapse._

"Is _what_ real…?" Mary repeated herself. Her soft voice was a bit louder than normal, but not by much. Still, Kido felt guilty for worrying her in the first place. The medusa's eyes, rose-colored and narrowed, were more concerned than anything. Her hands were trembling, but she kept her chin up for the most part.

With or without Kano, it would seem that the Kozakura girl was gaining her own brand of confidence. And while that made Kido happy, it also saddened her in the same way. Mary was changing, but it showed that Kido was _not._ Since Kano left, she had stayed frozen in time, stuck in a place of mourning and grief.

And yet...her most trusted ally, one of her closest friends and companions, Kousuke Seto, had told her (over the phone, mind you) that the person she feared was gone forever, was actually _alive._ And Seto was not one for jokes, especially one of this matter. So the fact is that he was telling the truth, and that Kano was not dead like they presumed he was, but alive and well. Alive and _breathing._

 _Alive._

Kido gulped, and tried to focus her attention back on Mary. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You, um, asked 'is this real?' so I asked you 'is _what_ real'?" She repeated their short, incomplete greetings, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "What's wrong, L-Leader…?"

"Mary," Kido began, "I don't know if you'll believe me. I don't even believe myself."

"What happened?"

"Seto called just earlier," She began to explain. "And he told me that...that…"

"...That?" Mary recited. "That what?"

"...Kano's alive." Kido croaked the words out, as if they were hard to say in the first place. It felt like she was trying to spit out glue or slime, but her words must have been coherent enough.

Mary's face fell in shock and in disbelief. She covered her mouth with both of her hands, and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"W-W-What…? _What?_ "

"Yeah! H-He said that, and Seto doesn't joke around with these kinds of things, so I don't know what to make of it." She buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God, does that mean this whole time, he's been…?"

"I-I hope he was telling the truth," Mary acknowledged. "I want it to be true."

"Me too, Mary." Kido muttered. "Me too."

…

The walk back to base was unlike any other. Seto had not felt this awkward since when he first met Kano, all those years back at the orphanage. Even then, things must have gone better than they were going at present. There was a thick awkwardness in the air, the tension heavy enough to weigh on Seto and crush his shoulders.

It was not until the familiar apartment building came into place, did Seto find some relief. And even then, Kano's skepticism kept most of Seto's reassurance at bay. At each step they took, Kano seemed more confused and less understanding. It was cruel how honest he was being, and if Seto did not know any better, he might have wished that he did not find Kano at all.

(But he does not mean that in any way possible. Kano's liveliness is better than anything he could have asked for)

"Here we are," he said. "Number 107. The Room of the Monsters."

"The...the _what?_ " The blond asked incredulously. "That's what you call it?"

"No," Seto said, "that's what _you_ called it. Back at the orphanage, you called our room, which was also number one hundred and seven, 'The Room of the Monsters'. It's because the other kids said it was the room where the monsters were living, but anyway! Let's just go in, okay?"

"Okay," the other said dully. "Whatever, as long as we get this over with."

Kousuke hesitated, but opened the door with sloppy movements. The air was as it always had been, except the new smells of lunch and cooking were present. He sighed, and stepped to the side, where he offered that Kano go in first.

"Fine," Kano muttered, "I'm warning you, no funny business. No dirty tricks, okay?"

"I told you," Seto said exasperatedly, "I'm not going to hurt you or anything. Just go in and see for yourself."

The blond obeyed, and walked gingerly into the hall. There, he found decorations and pictures, but none of it seemed familiar to him in the least. He passed a few doors, but ultimately kept walking.

When he reached the end, he was out in an open reception area. There were leather couches and a more doors. Off to the side was an open kitchen, with counters and an oven and a full fridge.

What was more noticeable, however, was the girl sitting at the table. Kano stared at her for a moment or so. Her hair was long, and in a strange olive green color that could _not_ have been natural. Her eyes were arguably dark brown, but appeared stark black and dull in the lighting. Still, she was not an unpleasant sight. And while he could not explain it, Shuuya felt something within him stir, someting that was not quite anxiety, but close in nature.

Was it familiarity? Impossible, he decided. It was impossible. He did not know the girl in front of him, and yet she seemed to know him. As their eyes met, she became softer and sadder, as if the mere sight of him caused her agony.

And it did. She rose from her seat, and marched over to him. He flinched, but remained still as she seemed to examine him. When she was done, she hugged him, and the sudden bout of affection caught Kano off guard.

His hands did not touch her, and his neck was weighed down by her arms. She did not seem to realize his confusion, and nearly cried into him.

"Kano," she muttered, "you idiot, where _were_ you? Where'd you go? Why are you only coming back _now?_ I...I…"

"Kido!" Seto called out, "Kido, don't jump to conclusions yet. I haven't explained. You see—"

"—I have no idea who you are." Kano finished. The words he spoke seemed to paralyze Kido, as her movements stilled and her breath more so.

The blond sighed, and relinquished himself from her hold. He backed away, as if she might hurt him, or otherwise pull a stunt on him. Her eyes, wide and shocked, held so many emotions that Kano decided not to spare any of them. He repeated himself in an equally confused voice, but in a tone so bitter and so sharp, it hurt.

"I have no idea who any of you are, so would you please leave me alone after this?"


End file.
